


Prize, Prize... Who Has the Prize?

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, Spoiler Alert Spoiler Alert Spoiler Alert for Season 3 Episode 8 The Prize + Major Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7294966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT<br/>For Season 3, Episode 9 - The Prize<br/>MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH looming ahead in this one.</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Royal Gardens_

Sounds of laughter and the clashing of blades filled the afternoon while King Louis tried his luck against Minister Treville.

"Sire," Treville breathed heavily, "I need to rest. You've worn these old bones out."

Spying d'Artagnan walking their way, Louis' eyes gleamed. "Ah! Some proper opposition now!"

Knowing what His Majesty was insinuating, d'Artagnan could not afford the king that pleasure however. "Alas, I'd love to but I have sustained a wound on my sword hand," he extended his hand for King Louis to see.

Still wearing a smile on his face, King Louis gazed fondly upon the Gascon and Treville. "And these are my defenders." Looking at d'Artagnan again, the monarch tilted his head toward his First Minister. "Treville used to teach me how to fight when I was a lad." Then lightly dancing away he sing-songed, "But it seems that I've surpassed him."

Standing off to one side, Treville's chuff of laughter made d'Artagnan grin. "He forgot everything I ever taught him but I will say this Louis never lacked for courage."

While d'Artagnan conversed with the minister his attention was caught by the king's hacking. Observing bright red blood covering His Majesty's hands, d'Artagnan knew this was bad. Then he watched his monarch's eyes roll up in the back of his head just before King Louis collapsed. Running as fast as he could, d'Artagnan managed to catch him before the king's head made impact with the hardened Earth "Guards!" he screamed for help.

Within a few seconds, even though it felt like a lifetime, d'Artagnan was joined by Minister Treville and Queen Anne. All of them distraught over King Louis' fate. Relinquishing His Majesty into the queen's arms, d'Artagnan stayed by the monarch's side to aide in any way he could. But what spark of life that had remained in the king's eyes dimmed until they flickered closed.

When King Louis' head lolled to the side, blood still trickling from his mouth, it showed them all that he had at last succumbed to his sickness and left this mortal coil. They were all stunned speechless, shocked to their very core.

One minute King Louis had asked to spar with d'Artagnan, which would have been his honor to do so if he had been able, then the next minute His Majesty was choking on his own blood. Knowing about his monarch's illness was one thing. Facing the reality of what the White Plague had now cost them all was nearly inconceivable to d'Artagnan. What would they all do now?

Pulling d'Artagnan off to the side, Treville needed the lad to locate their captain. "Find Athos now!"

++++

_First Minister's office_

When Athos strode in to see Treville, he faced a man whose stoic mask had slipped. In it's place was a man who had tragically lost a son. For it was Treville who had taken the young Louis and prepared him to be a good and just king. Oh there was Richelieu, of course, but all the cardinal had ever done for His Majesty was drill politics into his head until it ached. It was to Treville, the king's _old fox_ that Louis had turned to for emotional support. "Tis happened then?"

"God rest his soul," Treville's gaze rested on the petit king who stood quietly beside him. "I need you to hide him in the city until its safe to return. Paris is surrounded by enemies. Involve only people you trust. But especially not Aramis."

"You don't trust Aramis after all this time and everything we've been through?"

"Not with this," Treville glanced down at the child. "Safer he doesn't know."

Bowing to a wiser head than his own, Athos knew the truth of Treville's words. "You're right, of course." Kneeling down to the king's level Athos tried for a smile, hoping he had succeeded in not scaring him to death instead. "I'm going to make you an honorary Musketeer."

++++

_Outside the grounds of the palace_

"Will this work?" D'Artagnan watched Athos carefully hold onto His Majesty while atop Roger.

"Civil war is coming to Paris and that child is the prize," Treville's attention was then caught on Athos' words to the petit sire.

"I hear you're a born horseman," Athos pulled on Roger's reins. "Hold tight. I think you're going to like this."

Believing the king was safe with Athos, Treville walked back to the palace with d'Artagnan at his side.

"What is the queen going to think when she discovers her son's missing?" D'Artagnan had never seen Queen Anne really angry nor did he ever want to. After d'Artagnan and King Louis had been kidnapped by slavers, Constance had told him how the queen had let her temper get the better of her when finding out what Louis had been about. Her Majesty's anger sounded like it could have rivaled that of any Gascon's. He didn't relish Treville being the one at the end of her tongue lashing.

"She'll be furious with me as is her right. But we all know that the Duke of Lorraine and Gaston are planning to attack us," Treville rubbed at his temples, fearing a headache coming on. "Tis for the best the king goes into hiding until we can see our way out of this."

++++

_Garrison_

Spotting Constance giving last minute instructions to Clairmont and Brujon, Athos hid in a darkened area until he could gain her attention. "Psssst."

Hearing a noise, Constance swiveled her head looking around. Then she noted Athos signaling for her to come over. Wondering what he was about, she stood stalk still catching sight of the garcon who was looking her way and waving. "What in the world?" Making sure no one saw her, Constance carefully crossed over to them.

"Treville's ordered me to hide him in Paris."

"This would be the first place they'd look," Constance huffed. "Come on, I know a better place to hide him. But first we need other clothes for him."

++++

_Minister's office_

"Now the minister's Regent?" Porthos exchanged puzzled looks with his two brothers. They appeared as confused as he was. "Shouldn't it 'ave been the queen?"

Bursting through the doors, Treville had heard Porthos' question. "For whatever reason Louis deemed necessary he named me Regent."

"Perhaps in the end His Majesty thought Paris safer in a soldier's care," d'Artagnan offered. Some days he felt that Athos' diplomatic skills had rubbed off on him.

"Perhaps," Treville shrugged and sat down behind his desk. "This changes nothing though."

"Everything has changed, sir," d'Artagnan bowed.

"Stop that this instant," Treville smiled however at the young Gascon. "Look," he observed Aramis, d'Artagnan and Porthos patiently waiting for their next orders, "I need your help now more than ever."

"Does anyone know where Athos is?" Aramis stared at his two brothers and then back again at the minister. "Shouldn't he be here for this?"

"Never mind where he is. I have more important matters that need tended to," Treville handed a missive over to d'Artagnan. "Deliver that to Captain Marcheaux. I'm disbanding the Red Guard."

"Is that wise when Paris will be under attack?" On one hand d'Artagnan was pleased to see Marcheaux lose his position but on the other, d'Artagnan thought it was bad timing.

"I want only loyal Frenchmen defending us," Treville waved his men out of his office since he had another council meeting to attend.

++++

_The Wild Raven Tavern_

Watching Marcheaux's grim face as he read Minister Treville's letter, Porthos wanted to bust out laughing. "We hoped ya'd take it like a man," he briefly glanced over at Aramis and d'Artagnan who were standing near the buvette.

"We did," Aramis agreed.

"We did," d'Artagnan's lips twitched. "Then again we knew you wouldn't."

"We'll drive you and Treville out of Paris," Marcheaux threatened, crushing the missive in his hand.

"I don't think so," d'Artagnan countered softly. Then all hell broke loose when the Red Guards attacked him and his brothers. At one point a much larger man than d'Artagnan had him in a choke hold which d'Artagnan was having a hard time escaping. Then Aramis gave him a hand and he found himself being able to breathe again. "I had that under control!" he snapped.

Grinning, Aramis was amused as the Gascon's temper rose. "Next time I'll just let you die." Finally getting tired of all this, Aramis fired his pistol into the air. That quieted things down at last. He should have done that earlier, it would have saved him collecting a bruise or two.

Throwing a beaten up Marcheaux onto a chair, Porthos clamped his hands on the officer's shoulders so he'd stayed seated.

"No one will except Treville as regent," Marcheaux's voice began to slur.

Using his fingers, Porthos kept pressing on pressure points behind Marcheaux's ears until the man passed out. Grinning, he noted d'Artagnan's lifted brows. "Somethin' I learned from a Spanish prisoner once."

"I imagine that," d'Artagnan paused to stare once more at Marcheaux's lax features, "the thing is just knowing when to stop," he chuckled. "Very good."

"This calls for a toast," Porthos walked over to the buvette where d'Artagnan and Aramis already were holding out their mugs.

"Long live the king!" Aramis raised his mug high.

"The king!" d'Artagnan added his voice to that of his older brother.

"And the new regent," Athos announced, entering the tavern.

"Where have you been?" Aramis had a feeling that for once Athos wasn't going to tell him the truth.

Having woken up, Marcheaux added his two cents. "Enjoy it while it lasts... there's an army coming."

++++

_Christophe's abandoned tavern_

Feeling this would make a good hiding place, Constance had enlisted Sylvie's help in hiding the king in the former tavern. Athos had ordered Constance to remain here until she heard back from him. It was going to be a long wait.

++++

_First Minister's office_

Reporting back to the Treville, Athos had good news for him. "You no longer have a Red Guard."

"Cardinal Richelieu's probably turning over in his grave about now," Treville remarked. "But I believe tis for the best."

"As to the king," Athos paused when Treville held up his hand.

"I do not want to know," Treville sighed. "Tis bad enough I have the queen breathing down my neck over where I've taken him."

"Ah!"

"Precisely," Treville snapped. "On another note I believe the council and I have come up with a plan to trap Gaston. It will mean him coming back to Paris supposedly in peace. The tricky part is getting Queen Anne to agree and sign the papers to make it law."

"Good luck with that," and here Athos thought being a captain was involved.

++++

Gaining the queen's acceptance had been like pulling teeth. But in the end Treville had convinced her this was for the best and that she should trust his judgment. So far his ruse was working. Treville welcomed Gaston back to the palace with slightly opened arms. Getting Louis' brother where he needed to be, Treville was now able to leave with Porthos to talk peace with the Duke of Lorraine. If things worked out the way he planned then Gaston was in for a nasty surprise.

++++

_Captain's office_

"You're back, finally," Aramis exclaimed, stepping into the office and seeing d'Artagnan already there. "So where is he being hidden? Tell me. And don't play games with me, Athos. Where is he?"

"Tis better you don't know, Aramis."

"You came back too quickly. So he must still be in Paris," Aramis' eyes flicked to d'Artagnan, the latter shrugged his shoulders silently telling Aramis that he had no idea where the king was either.

"He's being well cared for by people we know and trust," Athos tried to reason with him.

"Who do you trust to look after the king of France? I'd like to know if I agree with your choice," Aramis felt like shaking his friend to admit where his son had been taken.

Feeling bad for both parties, d'Artagnan's sympathies though were for Aramis at this moment. Leaving the office, all of them were heading down the steps. It was Aramis' last words, that he threw at Athos' back, which gave d'Artagnan pause to consider how their brotherhood had been badly shaken. Or at worse - falling apart.

"What happened to one for all?" Aramis' heated gaze on Athos' retreating figure lasted until the captain was out of sight.

++++

_Garrison_

Being her last resort, the desperate queen confronted Constance. If anyone would know the whereabouts of her son it would be her. When Queen Anne listened to her friend's wise council about why the king couldn't be with the queen at this time, she asked Constance to at least let her see her son. So they arranged for Queen Anne to spy on them when Constance takes the king to prayers. This way at least Queen Anne could satisfy herself that her child was safe.

++++

_The Wild Raven Tavern_

Throwing pouches of money at his men, Marcheaux grinned as he dropped the coins in front of them. "One for _Athos_... _Aramis_... and _d'Artagnan_ ," he chuckled. "I know where to find Porthos. He's as good as dead."

++++

_Royal Palace - King Louis lies in state_

Leaning in close to Athos' shoulder, d'Artagnan whispered, "There couldn't have been a worse time for Louis to die."

"I believe he held onto his life for as long as he could for his son," Athos' eyes rested on the deceased body of His Majesty.

"Whose in hiding somewhere... _with someone_." A tad irritated that his best friend and brother couldn't trust d'Artagnan with the truth either, urged him to see if he could get Athos to admit where the king was. "Athos?"

"He was right," Athos' words carried quietly to the Gascon.

"What do you mean?"

"Aramis," Athos dared a quick look at the younger man. " _One for All_ ," he lifted a shoulder. "All this secrecy is wrong."

Seeing this as his opening again, d'Artagnan tilted his head to the side. "So... who has him now?"

"Constance," Athos smiled at the lad. He could literally hear the wheels spinning in d'Artagnan's head mulling that one over.

"Constance," d'Artagnan returned the smile believing Athos to be jesting. But when he took a closer look at his brother, d'Artagnan's face registered disbelief. Athos wasn't teasing him. Truly the king was with his friend. Did being captain eventually addle your wits? D'Artagnan was beginning to seriously think so.

++++

_Chapel_

She thought she was being clever, Marcheaux sniggered to himself. He knew following Constance would be his ticket to discovering the location of where His Majesty was hidden. Barging into the chapel Marcheaux and his Red Guard made a bee line straight to the pew where Constance and the king were sitting. Making no bones about it Marcheaux hauled off and slugged the young woman.

Marcheaux had no idea that Queen Anne had witnessed the entire exchange from the balcony where she was hiding. Even if he had, Marcheaux would have cared less. Trying to drag the king out of the chapel, he didn't get very far as Aramis showed up.

Dispatching the Red Guard, Aramis made short work of it so as to deal with Marcheaux before the captain could get away. Lunging at Marcheaux, Aramis' blade missed its mark. Dueling for several minutes Aramis grew careless and Marcheaux managed to escape.

When Marcheaux had had enough, turning tail and running away, it left Aramis to take his anger out on someone and that person was Constance. Railing at her for risking the king's life it wasn't until Queen Anne made her presence known that his anger abated. When Her Majesty had explained that all of this was her fault, Aramis managed to calm down a degree or two. He calmly listened when Constance told him of another place where she and Sylvie could hide the king. Aramis promised he would get word to Athos and give them the protection they needed.  

++++

_Captain's office_

Having been informed by Aramis of what had happened at the chapel, and that Constance was on the move again with the petit king, Athos felt that Aramis deserved an apology from him. Leaving his office, Athos began walking down the steps alongside Aramis with d'Artagnan trailing behind them. "I should have told you everything from the start. For that you have my deepest apologies."

"Non," Aramis shook his head. "I wasn't thinking straight. I may have put the garcon in danger with the way I was behaving."

Squeezing himself past the two men, d'Artagnan's pace quickened. "Gentlemen, happy as I am that we're all friends again, can I go help Constance now?"

Smiling, Athos nodded. "Go." Watching d'Artagnan run off to the stables, he placed a hand on Aramis' arm. "We need to stop Marcheaux."

++++

_Laundry_

The laundress in charge refused the money Constance offered her to keep her silence. She knew this woman was good and kind and always tried to help them when she could. If she herself could do her a favor in return, then it wouldn't be a hardship. "Must be important if you brought a Musketeer with you," she noted the young soldier approaching them with quick strides. Looking at Constance, then at the child with her, then back again at the Musketeer she thought perhaps not knowing what was going on wasn't a bad thing. "I don't need your coin but times are hard. Just bring us more work from the garrison."

"I promise," Constance smiled gratefully at the laundress. She was relieved that Aramis and Athos had sent d'Artagnan to watch over them.

"You all right?" At her nod, d'Artagnan glanced at the silent king. "Hi there. Remember me?" He knelt down, eye level with the child. "I'm d'Artagnan and I'm going to do my very best to protect you." Still the garcon remained quiet. Considering the king's age and upbringing, the child's behavior was strange. Under the circumstances, it would work in his favor as d'Artagnan needed the youngster to keep his silence until they could find their way out of this mess.

Encountering Sylvie's gaze, d'Artagnan's keen eyes skimmed over her. She appeared slightly apprehensive but unharmed. All in all everyone was in one piece, relatively speaking that is. Always a plus no matter how one looked at it.

Biting her lip, Constance took d'Artagnan's hand squeezing it tightly. "Sorry, I would have told you sooner but Athos made me promise."

"And he was right too. I would have done the same. There are Red Guards everywhere. We cannot be too careful." He glanced up at the laundress. "Can you find us a good hiding place?"

"Oui, come," the laundress led d'Artagnan over to where there was a hidden access under the floorboards.

"This is exactly what I need." Taking the king from Constance he wanted her and Sylvie gone from here. "You need to leave immediately. If they come here you'll both be recognized." While they ran out of the laundry, d'Artagnan opened their hiding place up. Turning to the king he said, "Come here." Holding a finger to his lips, d'Artagnan wanted the garcon to remain silent. "Shoosh. Very quietly now." Picking the king up he gently lowered him down into it.

"Be very, very quiet," d'Artagnan reminded the child. Seeing the king's slight hesitation about going into that dark space, d'Artagnan tapped him on the nose. "Hey, don't worry. Go go!" Then it was his turn to climb down beside the garcon closing the floorboards after them as he did so. It was a tight fit but d'Artagnan managed to get his lanky frame curled around the king as he hovered protectively over the child, his rapier held in his right hand.

++++

_Elsewhere_

Not to be outdone again Marcheaux had been keeping track of Constance's and Sylvie's movements. When those two entered the laundry, Marcheaux knew he had them. Quickly he went to inform Grimaud. After he had, Marcheaux ordered his men to keep Aramis and Athos occupied as they were patrolling around that area. He didn't need them to come to the king's rescue until Grimaud had managed to whisk the child away.

++++

_Laundry_

Marching into the laundry, Grimaud ordered the men with him to start their search. The venture proved fruitless and so Grimaud was about to leave when he caught a strange look on the laundress' face. So he became curious and stared down at the floorboards. Could there be a hiding space down below? Well he would soon discover if that was the case.

Starting to jab his sword through the floorboards, Grimaud hoped to find his prize. Oh he doubted if the king were truly hidden below that he would accidentally hurt or kill the child. There was no doubt in Grimaud's mind that there was a Musketeer protecting His Majesty. If his blade struck flesh, it would be that of the king's protector.

Having heard Grimaud's damn voice, d'Artagnan put his finger to his lips again for the king to keep his silence. He was more than worried that the man would find them and d'Artagnan would be outnumbered. The waiting was getting on his nerves. It ended when Grimaud's sword pierced his back. Biting into his hand, d'Artagnan tried to muffle his cry when the pain to his upper shoulder nearly overwhelmed him. Still, he didn't have time to indulge in fainting and did the only thing he could. Bursting through their hideaway d'Artagnan came out fighting managing to push back Grimaud in the process. But his injury was too severe and the numbers against him too many as he was knocked unconscious.

"I've gotten two prizes for the price of one it would seem," Grimaud smirked. "We're going to take the king and the Musketeer to see the Duke of Lorraine." Watching his men carry d'Artagnan out, along with His Majesty, Grimaud had a small moment of satisfaction seeing the blood pouring from the wound he had given the other man. Athos may lose his precious Gascon yet.

++++

_Outside the laundry_

Having found out from the laundress that Grimaud now had the king in his grip, Athos was terrified at what that meant. Aramis too appeared horrified, knowing that his son was with that madman. "With the king in their possession everything Treville's been fighting for will be lost."

"What of d'Artagnan?" Aramis turned to the laundress.

"The young man was dreadfully hurt," she told them. "Stab wound to his back shoulder."

Thanking her Aramis braced himself to face his brother. The bleakness reflected in Athos' eyes nearly took his breath away. "It may not be that terrible of an injury."

"Tis d'Artagnan," was Athos clipped response.

"There's that," Aramis nodded as both men raced back to the garrison to get their horses and head to Lorraine's camp.

_Duke of Lorraine's Headquarters  
_

Having made peace with the duke, and tricking Gaston in the process, Treville thought he was home free. That was until d'Artagnan was literally thrown at his feet. If the Gascon was here, Treville closed his eyes knowing what else he would see coming through the door. Sure enough there was the petit king. This couldn't be happening. Not after finally giving Lorraine full independence.

Since the Duke of Lorraine agreed to peace it would be up to him, Porthos and Treville to fight their way out of this. Casting his eyes on the prone form of d'Artagnan, Treville grimaced at the amount of blood the lad was fast losing. Knowing that the young Gascon wasn't going to be able to aide them, Treville was determined that all was not lost.

When the fighting commenced, Treville fought like a man possessed. The future of France was at stake. He would be damned if Grimaud would reap the rewards! Holding his own, Treville thought things were turning in their favor. Porthos had taken care of at least four of Grimaud's men from what Treville could see. He alone had dispatched three more. But looking for the duke, Treville was dismayed to find that he had been killed.

With more men coming at them Treville made a mad dash for the king, picking him up and running out of the building. Already knowing that the fight had taken Porthos outside, he yelled out his orders. "Get to your horse and take the king!"

Finding Roulette waiting for him just where he had left his horse, Porthos quickly mounted and went to Treville's side. Taking the king into his arms a wordless exchange took place between Porthos and Treville. Handing the minister an extra musket Porthos, with a long last look at Treville, knew he would never see him alive again.

Whirling around, Treville faced his enemies. They seemed to have crawled out of every corner. Firing his muskets, one after the other, he threw them down and unsheathed his rapier. If Treville were to die this day, he vowed to take as many with him as he could.

He was hit multiple times from their weapons, still Treville pressed on until the last shot took him to his knees. Swaying, he stared into Grimaud's emotionless mask. Knowing this was his last moment on Earth, Treville sent up a silent prayer that his passing would be swift. When Grimaud's shot hit Treville dead center in the chest, he fell to the ground.

They had arrived too late. Aramis and Athos took care of the rest of Grimaud's men but it was seeing Treville on his knees before Grimaud that sent Athos' blood to boiling. Roaring his anger at Grimaud, Athos charged him but knew he'd never make it in time to prevent the musketball from hitting its target. When the smoke cleared Grimaud had disappeared once more, leaving behind nothing but death and destruction. Hearts heavy, Athos and Aramis ran over to their minister's prone body.

Cradling Treville's head in his lap, Aramis moaned his pain. "Non, non, non, non. Stay with us."

All Athos could do was stare in horror. The man who had taken him into the regiment, molded him into the Musketeer Treville knew he could be...Was dying at his feet. Losing King Louis was bad enough. Athos didn't feel God would be so cruel to them a second time. Apparently God was busy elsewhere. Hopefully protecting the king.

"His Majesty?" Treville croaked, hanging on by a slim thread. He needed to know that his sacrifice hadn't been for naught.

"Safe," Aramis whispered, tears pouring down his face. "Porthos has him."

"D'Artag..." Treville coughed weakly, "d'Artagnan," he pointed to the building. Those were the last words he uttered, his head lolled listlessly to the side.

Passing a hand over the minister's face, Aramis closed Treville's eyes. Glancing up at Athos, Aramis swiped his face with his sleeve. "D'Artagnan must be injured."

Shaking himself from his stupor, Athos jerked his head toward the building. "Which would explain why we haven't seen him or d'Artagnan would have been out here fighting alongside us."

Both Musketeers rushed inside, skidding to a halt at a sight that made both of their hearts plummet. On the floor, blood pooled all around their youngest brother.

Aramis was the first to recover and quickly went into medic mode. Hands carefully placing the Gascon onto his side so he could see the damage, Aramis could tell the wound was deep. "Athos, help me off with the lad's doublet." When that was accomplished, Aramis could tell the blood was now seeping out more sluggishly. "There's no telling how much blood d'Artagnan's lost," he huffed. "Would you get me my saddlebags?" When his brother returned, Aramis staunched the rest of the blood with fresh cloths. Feeling d'Artagnan's forehead, Aramis cursed. "Merde! Fever's already taken hold."

Preventing himself from losing control and indulge in a fit of hysterics, Athos thought what else could possibly go wrong? Then a twinge of guilt came over him. The one good thing that came right was in keeping the king from Grimaud's filthy clutches. And they had Minister Treville to thank for that. The focus now would be on getting d'Artagnan and the minister's body back to Paris. "I will procure a wagon for them."

"How are we going to tell him, Athos?"

"You have to get d'Artagnan coherant first? Work on that would you?" Athos snapped, not meaning to take his anger and frustration out on his brother.

Placing his hand on top of the lad's head Aramis murmured a quick prayer, making the sign of the cross. "You'll be all right, d'Artagnan. I won't accept anything less," he carded his fingers through the Gascon's dark hair. "You have to live to protect my son. He's going to need you by his side when the time comes. I'll be too old and grey to do anyone much good by then," he leaned down to kiss d'Artagnan's temple. "So heed my words well, petit frere."

++++

_Garrison - infirmary_

Despite the ample amount of blood d'Artagnan had lost, thanks to Aramis and Doctor Devereaux working round the clock on him, the Gascon had survived. He still dealt with a slight fever but it wasn't anything to be concerned over. What did worry everyone was the lad's reaction to Treville's death.

"'As 'e shed any tears yet?" Porthos' gruff voice spoke softly in the confines of the infirmary.

"Non," Athos shook his head. "But he will when the time comes."

"It hit him harder than the rest of us, I feel," Aramis remarked.

"Eh?" Porthos glared at his brother. "I think we're all right takin' it hard."

"Treville knew d'Artagnan since infancy," Athos kept his gaze locked on d'Artagnan. Hoping that the Gascon was finally getting the much needed rest his body needed. Though Athos wouldn't put it above the lad to feign being asleep. He had done so many a time when all of them were on a mission together. D'Artagnan would later explain that it was his only way of finding out things that his brothers would have kept from him. "His pere and Treville were the closest of friends, remember?"

"Oy!" Porthos hand hit the side of his face. "I forgot."

"We'll be there for him," Aramis vowed. He hadn't been there for their youngest during the last four years d'Artagnan was at war. But by God he'd be there for the lad this time! Knowing that the king was now safely back with the queen, Aramis could deal with anything else that came their way.

"The kid will 'ave ta drag me away from 'is side," Porthos growled low. He wouldn't allow their Gascon to lick his wounds alone. Not as long as Porthos was alive and kicking.

"He'll soon remember tis what brothers are for," Athos hooked a foot around a chair leg dragging it over. Placing it by d'Artagnan's bedside Athos planted himself on it. "And d'Artagnan will come out all the stronger for it."

The End


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for TinkerBella who had asked me for it to see d'Art's reaction to the minister's death.
> 
> See note at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_Infirmary, three days later_

"'E been givin' ya any trouble?" Porthos asked Doctor Devereaux while the physician was rummaging through his medicine cabinet.

"Whoever coined the phrase - _'silence is golden'_ knew what he was about," Devereaux glanced over at d'Artagnan who was currently sitting up in bed staring blankly at the walls. "But in this case I'd rather have the lad ranting and raving instead of doing a poor imitation of a church mouse," locking the cabinet he pocketed the key. "He's been like that ever since d'Artagnan found out about the minister. It's gotten to the point that it's beginning to worry me greatly."

"Yeah," Porthos grunted. "That's not normal behavior even for 'im."

"Have the arrangements been set for Minister Treville's funeral?" Devereaux had been saddened at the soldier's death. He had liked the man immensely along with his dry sense of humor whenever Treville cared to share it with him.

"Ain't gonna be for a few more days yet," Porthos' dark eyes grew sad with the grief he still felt and would continue to feel for a long time to come. "Queen Anne's waitin' for some dignitaries ta arrive who wanted ta pay their last respects," he glanced at the Gascon for a second. "Word has it that the queen's been hopin' our lad 'ere would be up and around by then to attend," cocking his head to the side, Porthos stared intently at the doctor. "Will 'e?"

"I could release him today if you'd like," Devereaux went over to another medicine cabinet. "His fever's abated, and d'Artagnan's been lucid whenever I've talked with him," he frowned. "Or should I say after I've poked and prodded the young man to death?" he chuckled. "When d'Artagnan wanted to speak, he complained most vocally at what he considered my abuse of his person."

A big grin spread across Porthos' face. "'E's like the rest of us in that regard. Kid's always battin' our hands away when we tried ta take care of 'is wounds. Especially Aramis," Porthos shared a look with the doctor, communicating without words that the inseparables took care of their own. "We got this. No worries." The heaviness in Porthos' chest felt lighter now that d'Artagnan was going to be released.

"Mind his injury," Devereaux warned. "It will still pain him if he makes any sudden movements." He placed a small vial into Porthos' hand. "I don't want to hear that d'Artagan's been wielding his rapier either until his wound heals."

"What's this for?" Porthos stared at the vial.

"Give that to Aramis," Devereaux closed Porthos' fingers over the vial. "Laudanum for the lad's pain," he raised a finger. "And make sure d'Artagnan doesn't try to lay on his back," he added as an afterthought.

"Yeah," Porthos nodded. "Aramis carries this in 'is medical bag."

"Oui," Devereaux smiled. "Aramis is always raiding my medicine cabinet on a daily basis," he chuckled. "The way you Musketeers are always getting injured I have to make a near daily run to the apothecary in town."

"This all I need ta give Aramis for the kid?"

"Oui," Devereaux sighed. "But what d'Artagnan needs the most is for someone to shake him up. He won't be able to function if the lad continues this way for much longer."

"Me and my brothers will see to it don't ya worry none on that score." Sitting down on the edge of d'Artagnan's bed, Porthos touched the Gascon's hand. "I'm breakin' ya outta 'ere, kid."

"Non, you're not," d'Artagnan lifted sad, weary eyes to his brother. "Doctor Devereaux's simply releasing me."

Mmmmm, interesting Devereaux hummed to himself. It would appear that d'Artagnan wasn't as oblivious to what was going on around him as Devereaux would have thought. 

"No fair, d'Art, spoilin' my fun," Porthos laughed, when actually he felt far from doing so. But someone needed to lighten the gloomy mood that had settled in the infirmary. "Let me 'elp ya get dressed and outta this fun house."

Arching a brow to rival that of Athos', Devereaux scowled at Porthos. "I have heard my infirmary regarded as many things. However _fun house_ was never one of them."

Hoping to see d'Artagnan's eyes twinkling at Porthos' jest, he frowned upon seeing nothing but a bleak expression on that young face. "Come on," he helped the Gascon out of bed. Handing d'Artagnan the lad's clothes, one piece at a time, Porthos continued lending a hand until his brother was fully dressed.

With the recent injury to d'Artagnan's right back shoulder, Porthos knew that the Gascon's muscles would be stiff and sore. Aramis would have to start therapy on their youngest's sword arm as soon as possible.

++++

_Later - Captain Athos' office_

Closing the door behind him, Porthos walked over to the liquor cabinet where Athos kept the good stuff.

Leaning back in his chair, Athos observed his brother pilfer his brandy. "Help yourself," he remarked dryly.

Holding up his glass, Porthos smiled slightly. "I already 'ave."

"Tis a little early in the day," Athos pursed his lips. "Still, pour one for me as well."

Handing Athos a glass of brandy, Porthos sat down in one of the chairs.

"How is he doing?" Athos threw back his drink, feeling the brandy burn its way down his throat.

"Same as yesterday and the day before that," Porthos responded bitterly.

"I see," Athos was hoping for a better prognosis than that.

"Kid needs us bad," Porthos placed his empty glass down on the desk. "What's the plan?"

Running a hand through his shaggy hair, Athos stared long and hard at his larger comrade. "What makes you think I have one?"

"You're the captin'... _Captin’_ ," Porthos smirked, as if it were a foregone conclusion that Athos was always prepared.

There was no humor reflected in Athos' blue eyes as they locked onto Porthos. Shoving his chair back, Athos got up going over to a rack on the wall. Grabbing his chapeau he adjusted it just so, giving it an extra pat. "Is d'Artagnan in his quarters?"

"I just delivered him there, yeah." Porthos followed Athos out the door. "Kid ain't gonna be doing much of anythin' for a time. D'Art will be climin' the walls being stuck in the garrison. 'E can't even mount ta ride Zad either."

Walking down the steps, when Athos reached the bottom he looked thoughtfully at Porthos. "Do you feel that d'Artagnan’s able to attend Minister Treville's funeral?"

"I doubt we'd could keep 'im away." Before Athos left, Porthos gripped the older man's arm. "We're supposed ta carry the coffin but d'Artagnan's in no shape ta do it. Knowin' 'im he'll fight us tooth and nail for that honor regardless of 'ow 'urt 'e is."

"I would never be the one to take that privilege away from him. I'll have to talk with Aramis. Perhaps there's a way to brace his right shoulder so that d'Artagnan would be able to bear weight on it."

++++

_D'Artagnan's quarters_

Rapping on the Gascon's door Athos worried when d'Artagnan didn't call out. Testing it, he found the door not locked. Walking in, of course, the lad was not there. Apparently it was too much to ask that d'Artagnan would stay put. Now Athos had to think where their youngest could have gone.

++++

_The Wren_

Placing a mug of lager in front of the young Musketeer, Tobias had heard of Minister Treville's passing and realized the lad was probably drowning his grief. Recognizing the Gascon as one of his regulars, Tobias would just keep an eye out that d'Artagnan didn't over indulge.

Scratching at his beard Tobias didn't feel it was right, under the circumstances, for d'Artagnan to be alone at this time. He bet Athos would be interested in knowing that the lad was here. Going in search of his young runner Everard, Tobias sent him to the Garrison with a message.

_Garrison stables_

Striding out of the stables, Athos was so sure that this was where d'Artagnan would have been that now he was at a loss. As he walked through the courtyard, Athos heard his name being called out. Turning around he spotted young Everard at the edge of the garrison gates. "Over here!"

"Tobias sent me to let you know Monsieur d'Artagnan is at The Wren. He figured with everything that happened recently that you'd want to know." Catching the coin Athos flipped to him, Everard grinned his thanks and ran off.

"Oh d'Artagnan," Athos moaned quietly. "Who told you to mimic my old habits, eh?”

++++

_The Wren_

Throwing back his third lager, d'Artagnan's senses still weren't addled enough. In fact they didn't feel addled at all which he found strange, considering he was on his third drink. Ah, no matter. Closing his eyes for but a moment d'Artagnan just wanted to forget. Forget every damn thing! Forget that he had just lost the last link that tied him to his family back in Lupiac. Staring into his empty mug d'Artagnan scowled down into it as if it were the enemy. Twisting in his seat he glared at Tobias. "Do you water down all your drinks? Or am I a special case?"

" _Special case_ , d'Artagnan," Tobias grinned. He wondered when the Gascon would figure it out. "Tis just cause I like you."

"Mother henning more like," d'Artagnan snorted. "Just like my brothers."

"Aye," Tobias nodded. "Tis what family does."

 _Family_ , everything came back down to that. Which made d'Artagnan think even more about the minister. Even though Treville had known d'Artagnan and his family closely, he had never traded on that friendship. Nor did Treville treat him any differently than any other new recruit.

Regardless that there wasn't any special considerations given to d'Artagnan, he knew Treville expected only the best from him. He already had more than a good jump on other recruits when he had first started. Since d'Artagnan's papa was a former Musketeer himself, he had trained at his parent's knee. Which was how he was able to keep up with Athos that first time d'Artagnan had challenged him to a duel.

With the inseparables tutelage, d'Artagnan's prowess flourished. Treville even had made time to show him moves that weren't even in his papa's and Athos' repertoire. Whenever Treville took d’Artagnan aside to demonstrate a certain technique, he knew that the officer had to be careful that it didn't look like favoritism. So from time to time Treville put on a good show of yelling loudly at d'Artagnan, giving the impression that he was fed up with him. Secretly though, Treville would wink at him letting d'Artagnan know he had executed it correctly, despite his blustering.

He refused to let his tears fall. Head hanging limply, d'Artagnan felt he had nothing left in him to cry with anyway. While in the infirmary, when he had recovered enough to understand what his brothers had told him had happened to Minister Treville, d'Artagnan had withdrawn into himself. Lost in his thoughts d'Artagnan snapped out of them when a familiar looking chapeau landed on his table. Sighing, he kicked out a chair for his friend to sit on as Athos took a seat opposite him.

"Running away never solved anything," Athos signaled Tobias to bring him over a drink. "I'm a prime example of how that never worked."

"I'm not running away," d'Artagnan retorted angrily. "Tis called taking a break from the land of the living."

Reaching over, Athos took d'Artagnan's hand in his own. Turning it over he studied the long, slim fingers. "You are so much stronger than you know. Stronger than any of us."

"Not Porthos," d'Artagnan slipped in.

A small amused light entered Athos' eyes at the Gascon's remark. "In that you are wrong, mon ami.” When his drink arrived, Athos released the lad’s hand to take a sip of wine. "Tis the strength of your convictions that will one day make you the greatest leader our regiment has ever seen."

Having no come back, d'Artagnan simply listened as his older brother's words washed over him.

"Treville had a lot to do with that from the time you were a petit garcon," Athos leaned over the table. "His legacy lives on in you and," his gaze locked on to the Gascon’s badge of honor that d’Artagnan always wore so proudly, "that pauldron you're wearing."

His shoulders beginning to shake, d'Artagnan turned his face away from Athos not wanting his friend to see him begin to fall apart. He couldn't stop his tears, no matter how hard he tried. So much for d'Artagnan thinking he had nothing left to cry with.

When the Gascon turned his head away from him, Athos got up to sit beside d'Artagnan. Placing a palm on the side of the lad's face Athos gently turned his brother's head back toward him, thumbing away the tears that were still flowing. "The worst fear is the fear of living," Athos smiled sadly. "Did you know that?" he patted d'Artagnan's cheek. "Come back, mon frere, to the land of the living with me."

"How do we carry on without his guidance?" d'Artagnan hiccuped, knuckling his eyes like a petit garcon.

"Trust in our brotherhood," Athos felt for their youngest, seeing the pain d'Artagnan was enduring both mentally and physically. "Tis what the minister always relied on."

"What of the funeral? Has the date been set?" d'Artagnan was going to dread it with every fiber of his being.

"Not until the week's end at least," Athos stood up and was relieved to see d'Artagnan do the same.

"I will be there," d'Artagnan's whole being was filled with determination. "I don't care what Doctor Devereaux or Aramis may say," he growled fiercely. "Nothing will keep me from being a pall bearer at Treville's funeral!" he slammed his hand down on the table so hard that their unfinished drinks nearly came to a bad end.

"Before coming to find you, I had just mentioned to Porthos that perhaps we could have Aramis brace your back shoulder in such a manner that it would enable you to do just that," Athos pushed their glasses back from the edge of the table. No sense in giving Tobias extra work in case they fell. "I'm sure Doctor Devereaux will have to have a hand in that as well."

"We best go see Aramis about it then to see what he can come up with." Before he left, d'Artagnan's glance slid from Athos over to Tobias. "Bet you didn't water down Athos' wine."

Hearing Tobias' great shout of laughter, a bemused Athos apparently had missed something of vital import before his arrival. Slapping the Gascon on the back Athos ushered d'Artagnan out the door. Knowing for a fact that the young man at his side had already made Minister Treville proud, Athos would do everything in his power to help d'Artagnan discover his full potential. After all how could the Gascon go wrong when he had brothers at his side like Porthos, Aramis and himself. One day it would be Athos calling the lad - _Captain_... And that truly would be Minister Treville's legacy to them all.

++++

_Note:_

The quote: _"The worst fear is the fear of living"_ is from Theodore Roosevelt.


End file.
